An Accidental Vacation
by SherlockedDancer
Summary: Sherlock and John are in Hawaii for a case, but what happens when their flight home is cancelled and they are stuck in a single bed hotel room? Something's going on with John, but Sherlock can't quite figure it out.
1. Chapter 1

The gravel like sand sticks to my skin as I absorb the heat through its tiny grains. The roughness would usually be uncomfortable but the need to warm my body is more crucial. My hands lay at my sides as I sprawl out, taking the form of the starfish I was observing just mere moments ago. I can feel the water dry on my skin and I can already imagine the slight salty residue that will remain. As I relax I feel the sand take me, pulling me deeper, almost to the point of sleep but not quite. The waves lull in the background, completing this relaxing moment. Relaxing for only so long because I knew what I must return to. That tall, lean, skinny, and pale detective. A mind that carried much brilliance, but also much ignorance. In some ways I loved him, and in others I did not. I knew that this moment of relaxation was very rare, soon we'd return home to the cool shadows of London, solving cases and drinking tea. I let my mind wander for a moment, just letting my senses take over and my soon my body seems to be swaying with the sound of the waves. This moment couldn't possibly be much better.

"John? What are you doing? You look ridiculous, all sprawled out like that. Who knows who will show up? You're putting yourself in a very vulnerable position and if someone where to want to kill you, you're not doing much to protect yourself."

I knew that this moment was too good to last very long. I let out a groan and reached out to hit Sherlock, missing due to the blinding sun.

"Go away."

"John we were here on a case, not on a vacation."

"Yes Sherlock but the case is over and I was trying to have some time to relax, just a little."

"Boring."

"Yeah well what's boring to you is not to others."

"Whatever John, if you need me I will be measuring bacteria levels in our hotel room."

"Oh God Sherlock, really? Fine, whatever, do what you want, just give me a little time to relax."

"Yeah sure, continue lulling your mind into complete boring dumbness."

"Thanks Sherlock, now go away."

With that Sherlock stood and walked away his long lean body looking rather clumsy as he attempted to walk through the sand.

John smiled and watched until Sherlock was completely gone. He laid his head back in the sand and sighed,

"What am I ever going to do with you Sherlock?"

John gave one last shove and finally closed his suitcase enough to zip the zipper closed. He lifted his suitcase off the bed and rolled it towards the door. Sherlock watched on in amusement, having finished packing his few items hours ago.

John opened the door,

"Well that's that. Guess we can go check out now."

Sherlock nodded in return grabbing his suitcase and throwing his jacket over his arm. The two of them walked out and down the hall, pushed the button for the elevator, and then waited. Within seconds another couple appeared, obviously just married and most likely on their honeymoon. John nodded and smiled at them. Sherlock however decided to speak,

"On your sex holiday I can see. Pretty successful by the looks of it. Obviously your husband…"

"Sherlock", John interrupted in embarrassment.

"What?" Sherlock's face showed a look of complete confusion.

"Not now please." John gave Sherlock a pleading look as well as a warning look.

"Fine", Sherlock huffed out, and they continued to wait for the elevator in awkward silence.

"What do you mean our flight is cancelled?"

John's face was growing redder by the second and he was thrashing his arms about in rage. Sherlock decided it was probably time for him to step in.

"That's fine sir, I don't think we mind spending another night, do we John?"

John looked at Sherlock astonished. Had he really just acted like a grown up and handled the situation? The hotel manager smiled at Sherlock and looked down at his computer,

"Let me just check to see if we have any rooms open."

Sherlock and John waited in silence, John taking deep breaths and Sherlock staring intently at the manager, probably deducing everything about him.

"Seems here we have one open room. Only trouble is that it only has one bed."

"We'll take it!" Sherlock answered, not even pausing to consider it.

"We will?" John asked in complete and utter confusion.

"We will!" Sherlock answered gleefully.

"Sorry again for the flight cancellation, have the room on us, no payment necessary.

"Wow thanks…" John uttered out, still confused at Sherlock's excitement towards their one bed room.

The manager handed them their new room keys and Sherlock took them quickly, marching straight towards the elevator. As they waited for the elevator they stood in silence, Sherlock still seemingly excited, and John confused as ever. Finally the elevator arrived and the two hopped on. The doors closed and instantly John felt claustrophobic. 'Had the elevator been this small before?' The ride seemed to last forever and when they finally arrived on the appropriate floor John quickly burst out, gasping for air.

"Something wrong?" Sherlock asked in confusion at John's sudden need to leave the elevator.

"Nope, I'm just a little claustrophobic, that's all."

Sherlock nodded but he knew better, something was up with John and he was going to find out what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Loud voices and the clinking of glasses filled the room. John did everything he could to drown it out, taking a gulp of his beer and closing his eyes. The day had been stressful, first the awkward elevator encounter with the honeymoon couple, then the flight cancellation, and finally the receiving of a room with only one bed. This is what stumped John. This is what caused him to be sitting in at the bar in the hotel lobby and trying to drown out the noise. Sherlock was a confusing person. John could never quite understand what went on in his crazy brain, and this time was no exception. Why on earth was he so excited to share a bed? Did Sherlock even understand what that entailed? The problem wasn't exactly all Sherlock though, it was partially John. John who was not gay. John who had girlfriends. John, who was completely and utterly in love with his flat mate. That was the part that stopped John.

* * *

Sherlock stood from the chair in the corner of the hotel room and paced back and forth, his hands folded neatly below his chin. 'Why on earth was John suddenly so on edge?' Sherlock couldn't help but think that he had done something wrong. 'I tried to act like an adult. I got us a room. I'm giving John his vacation time. I'm not being rude, and I'm giving him his space. What could possibly be wrong?' He continued to think about these things, eventually fully entering his mind palace, oblivious to the outside world.

* * *

John let out a sigh and threw some cash on the counter, swinging off the bar stool, and exiting the bar. He started walking towards the elevator but stopped himself. The evening was nice and John decided to take advantage of this beautiful location. When the elevator finally arrived, John turned the other way, heading towards the doors. As he left the hotel he was met by a tropical breeze, different than a regular breeze, different from a London breeze. A tropical breeze was somehow more refreshing and calming. John made his way towards the beach throwing of his shoes and stepping into the sand. His feet sunk in and John closed his eyes, listening to the ocean and feeling the slight buzz of alcohol through his body. He walked along the beach, surprisingly empty, and watched as the final part of the sun set beneath the ocean. 'Maybe', John thought. 'Maybe, just maybe, I could handle sleeping with Sherlock.'

* * *

The sun had finally set just as Sherlock had awoken from his mind palace. 'What time is it? Where is John? How long has he been gone?' Sherlock sprang up out of his seat and headed towards the door, quickly sending John a text.

_Where are you? Can I come meet you? –SH_

As Sherlock walked towards the elevator he tried to remember where John said he was going. 'Was it the pool? No… Was it the beach? No…. Oh! The bar, of course, that's always where John goes when he's distressed.' Sherlock hopped on the elevator and clicked the button for the lobby. When the elevator finally arrived Sherlock walked out, turning to the left and heading straight for the bar. Sherlock had a plan.

* * *

John took the few steps needed in order for his feet to get wet, the water tickling his toes as the sand swished between them. He smiled and backed up a few steps, finding a place to sit in the sand. The wind had picked up a bit and the breeze sent a shiver up John's legs. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees. John had thought the Sherlock bed situation through many times now and he decided what he would do. John had a plan.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock marched straight towards the bar, confidence echoing in each step he took. He eyed John sitting on a bar stool, 'Of course, his usual spot'. He paused only for a second, pulling together his last ounce of confidence and marching right straight up to John. He rested an arm on his shoulder and spit out the words,

"John, I think I'm in love with you."

The person who Sherlock believed to be John slowly turned around. He smiled and laughed,

"Well thank you. Who exactly are you?"

Sherlock froze, barely able to apologize as he turned and made a quick dash for the exit. The embarrassment was reaching a severe level, especially for someone who rarely felt embarrassed. Sherlock ran straight for the elevator, tears threatening to fall down his face. 'How could I do such a thing? I spent hours in my mind palace, deducing every little detail about John. I finally come to the conclusion that he's in love with me, and I build up my confidence to tell him I feel the same, and then what? I confess my love to some random drunk bloke in the bar. Really Sherlock, how could you do such a stupid thing?'

Just as the elevator arrived Sherlock turned and walked away, missing a little blonde man getting on the elevator from the other direction. Sherlock decided he would go to the beach. After all, didn't John tell him the beach was supposed to be relaxing? It was worth a try, at least after the embarrassment he had just put himself through.

* * *

John stood anxiously in the elevator. 'Of course they had to put us on the bloody 15th floor.' But John knew he couldn't complain, after all, there was only one available room, and it was being given to them for free. The elevator finally arrived and John stepped out, pausing in the middle of the hallway. He rubbed his hands together nervously and took a deep breath. So many times John had wanted to tell Sherlock, and after all these years here he was. He recited what he was going to say over and over again in his head and finally walked forward. He arrived at their hotel room door and pulled together all his confidence, taking on his standard military stature. He knocked on the door and waited. He knew he had a room key but he thought it might go better if he knocked. Nearly a minute of silence and John gave up. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the room key and unlocked the door, taking one last deep breath as he swung it open. John was met with silence, not only silence, but emptiness. Sherlock was nowhere to be found. 'Of course that bloody git would wander off. Especially right now, right before I say the most important statement of my life.' John's nervousness was quickly replaced by annoyingness and slight touch of anger. He sat down and pulled out his phone to text Sherlock, noticing that there was a text from Sherlock already waiting to be opened.

_Where are you? Can I come meet you? –SH_

So that's where Sherlock was. Most likely he hadn't even noticed John's absence and upon realizing John was gone, had forgotten where John said he was going. 'Sometimes the most brilliant man can be the most dumb', John thought to himself. He quickly typed back a message,

_Just got back to the hotel room, must have missed you. Want to meet up by the outdoor pool? _

_-JW_

John waited a moment for a Sherlock to reply, but his phone sat silent and vacant. Finally he decided to head down the pool. Either way he could get in one last swim. He changed into his swim trunks and decided he may as well grab Sherlock's swim suit as well. John carefully unzipped the detective's suitcase, intrigued on what he might find inside. To John's surprise, and a little bit to his disappointment, the suitcase was just normal. The clothes were packed surprisingly neat, folded, and sorted by color. There were no swim trunks to be found though and John almost closed the suitcase in defeat, almost. A zipper on the inside caught John's eye, just before he closed the suitcase. He unzipped it and sure enough there was a pair of swim trunks, but not only a pair of swim trunks, John noticed a shirt. Not just any shirt though, John's shirt. 'Why in the world would Sherlock have my shirt? To burn holes in it? Did he steal it just to see how long it would take me to find it?' John held the shirt for only a few seconds before decidedly putting it back into the suitcase and reminding himself to ask Sherlock about it later. Within minutes John had slipped on his sandals and left the hotel room, making his way back to the elevator.

* * *

Sherlock sat on the beach for quite some time. He sighed as he let his hand slide down his leg and into the sand. The warmth was still radiating through the grains from the sun earlier in the day and Sherlock pushed his hands in deeper, absorbing the warmth. He sat in the dark, alone, as usual. 'Alone is what I have. Alone is what protects me. Why in the world did I ever think it was a good idea to let my emotions get the better of me? Stupid sentiment, it always got in the way. Stupide John, ruining everything by making him feel this way.' Sherlock's fingers traced figure eights in the sand, slowly and rhythmically, calming Sherlock's brain. Just as he was starting to finally calm himself his phone buzzed. Sherlock groaned and pulled it out, 'most likely Mycroft bothering me about not being back in London yet.' Instead Sherlock saw John's name pop up on the screen. For a second he considered ignoring it, but he knew his anger towards John was only in his head and not about anything John had actually done. He opened the message,

_Just got back to the hotel room, must have missed you. Want to meet up by the outdoor pool? _

_-JW_

Sherlock thought for a moment and then replied,

_Meet you there in 10 minutes, need to grab my swim trunks from the hotel room. –SH_

As Sherlock slowly stood up and made his way (quite clumsily) off the beach, he heard his phone ding. Once again a message from John,

_I already grabbed your trunks. I'm just getting to the pool now. See you in a few minutes. By the way, where are you? –JW_

Sherlock read the message and quickly typed a response,

_I'm on the beach. I'll see you in a few minutes, there is something I need to tell you. –SH_

Just as Sherlock clicked send another messaged popped up on his phone,

_Good thing the pool is empty, there is something I need to tell you. –JW_

Sherlock ready the message and stopped walking. 'What did John need to tell him? Was he going to tell him that he didn't want to share a room? That he wanted to leave without me? That he was going to leave Baker Street?' Sherlock stopped himself, he didn't need to be so extreme, it was probably something dull and unimportant. Right?

* * *

John was just sending his text when he received a text from Sherlock. He clicked sent and then opened Sherlock's message,

_I'm on the beach. I'll see you in a few minutes, there is something I need to tell you. –SH_

John froze, 'What in the world would Sherlock need to tell me? That he had started a fire? That he had discovered a new bacteria?' He stopped thinking and decided to wait. It was probably some random fact, or something unimportant. Right?


	4. Chapter 4

**So firstly I just want to thank everyone who has followed (whether visible to me or not), favorited, or commented on my story. I love each and every one of you and I give you all big hugs. Secondly here is chapter 4 and I hope you enjoy- B**

John grabbed two towels and set them down on the chairs by the pool. He laid out Sherlock's bathing suit and then pulled off his shirt. He paused a moment and looked around, making sure he was alone he then turned back and examined himself in the reflection of the windows. Although he wasn't quite as fit as he had been when he was in service, his body was still rather toned. His stomach was not 'model perfect' by any standard but it was strong and in no way fat. His arm muscles were quite toned and his leg muscles were nicely defined, two of his best features. He turned around and stared at the pool and the hot tub, debating which he would get into. He finally decided on the pool, it wouldn't hurt to swim a few laps before Sherlock arrived. Slowly he entered the pool, one step at a time, covering first his feet and eventually his stomach. The water was a warm welcome, the perfect temperature. John closed his eyes as he felt his body relax into the water, finally dipping his head under and feeling the world go silent. Slow at first, he made his way across the pool, starting with a breath stroke and warming into a freestyle. John eventually blocked out the rest of the world, completely forgetting why he had come to the pool in the first place. It was no surprise that John was completely oblivious to Sherlock's presence.

* * *

Sherlock made his way to the pool, his mind going crazy over John's text. At the same time he was completely unsure of how he was going to confess his love to John. Earlier he had been so confident that he had just marched right up and said it, but it was a bit of a set back after the whole 'not actually John' incident. As he entered the outdoor pool he froze, noticing John swimming laps. Sherlock couldn't help but just stare, his mouth dropping open as he watched John. Sherlock had known John was fit, it was inevitable with his military background, but he hadn't known that John was still _this_ fit. He watched John's rippling back muscles and the strength of his toned arms pulling him forward with each stroke. To Sherlock, it was hypnotizing. He stood frozen, worried if he moved or even breathed John would notice and stop swimming. After nearly ten minutes Sherlock finally broke his silence, noticing his bathing suit sitting on a pool chair. He walked over and looked around, it was dark except for the light glowing from the pool, John was still busy swimming laps, and no one else was in view. Sherlock shrugged and pulled down his pants.

* * *

John continued to swim but suddenly noticed his limbs beginning to tire. In seconds reality flooded back in and John remembered why he had come to the pool. He swam to the end of the pool and stopped, grabbing on to the wall and wiping his eyes. He shook his head once and then looked around to see if Sherlock had arrived yet. Sure enough there was the detective, a little bit too much detective actually. John coughed and realized he had briefly stopped breathing, there standing in front of him was the world's only consulting detective, stark naked. Sherlock was facing the other direction and pulling off his shirt, his bottoms already removed, obviously thinking he was alone. That was until John coughed, the detective swung around in surprise facing John and freezing. John just gaped and then after a second felt a blush run to his cheeks.

"Errr, sorry John, I didn't think you would notice. I was just throwing on my bathing suit real quick… and errr…" Sherlock didn't finish his sentence, he just stood there still completely naked and frozen in his spot.

"Well… um… continue then." John said, not sure what else to say.

Sherlock nodded and slowly turned back around, bending over and pulling on his swim trunks. John tried to look away, he truly did, but when Sherlock bent over it was impossible to look away. As Sherlock turned back around John quickly looked away, pretending he had been paying no attention. Sherlock just laughed,

"I'm not blind you know John. I saw you checking me out."

John blushed and then replied rather defensively,

"It's kind of impossible not to look when someone _that_ good looking just decides to stand in front of you naked."

Once the words had come out John blushed even harder and dunked his head under the pool, his feet pushing the wall away as he swam to the other side. He was about halfway across when he heard the distinctive noise of a splash. He reached the wall and turned around, finding a very wet detective staring right back at him from the other side of the pool.

Both men sat in silence for a few seconds, neither moving, or breaking eye contact. It was like they were having a silent war with each other, waiting to see who would speak first. It was John however who broke the silence,

"Erm, you said you had something to tell me?"

Sherlock paused before replying,

"Yeah, but you said you had something to say as well, so feel free to go first."

Once again they sat in silence and John bit his lip, his tongue flicking out. After a minute John nodded slowly and then disappeared under water, appearing a few seconds later in front of Sherlock. The boys were now face to face and it was impossible for them not to notice the other's nervousness.

John looked into Sherlock's eyes and for the first time in forever saw something different. The detective wasn't his usual stone face, he had let down his barrier and John felt like with just this one glance he saw a part of Sherlock he had never seen before. Almost childlike, the detective was nervous, anxious, and eyes were the size of plates. Not to say that at the same time John noticed just how gorgeous Sherlock's face really was. Sure he had noticed before and admired from a distance, but never this close. His pupils were dilated but his eyes were beautiful, glowing with a slight sparkle. His gorgeous eyes were a confusing mix of colors, green, blue, and John swore there were speckles of gold. Then there was his cheek bones, defined and flattering, sharp enough John was pretty sure he could cut himself on them. Next John looked at Sherlock's hair, slightly damp but his curls still sticking out all over. He smiled as he noticed one little curl stuck to Sherlock's wet forehead. John watched as a water droplet moved from Sherlock's forehead down to his lips. Oh right, John had almost forgotten about Sherlock's lips. Now, this close, it was impossible not to notice just how perfect they were. Soft and pink, drawing up into a perfect bow on his upper lip. That's when John realized he had been staring for an awfully long time, but when he looked up he realized Sherlock was doing the same, taking in all of John's features. John watched as Sherlock's eyes dropped and stared at his lips. Without a word both boys looked up at each other and then leaned forward, closing the increasingly smaller gap between them.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock watched John's lips careful, calculating, making sure that this is what John wanted. He couldn't mess things up between him and John, his deductions had to be perfect or one wrong move and their relationship would be over forever. Sherlock looked up and his eyes met John's, both of them staring deeply. Sherlock made one last calculation, taking John's wrist into his hand and feeling his pulse quicken, looking deeper and watching John's eyes dilate. This was it, it was now or never. Sherlock leaned in and to his relief, felt John lean in to.

Their lips met and it was beyond perfect. It was the satisfaction of a perfect match, two puzzle pieces fitting together flawlessly. Their arms reached out, Sherlock's wrapping around John's back, and John's slipping into the detective's damp curls. After what felt like an eternity, and not long enough, the two pulled away. Sherlock looked expectantly at John,

"Okay go ahead, say what you need to tell me."

John burst out laughing,

"Well I think we've said quite enough."

Sherlock shook his head,

"No, I want to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

"You know what John, don't play dumb with me."

"I hate you?" John asked playfully.

Sherlock shoved him,

"Stop it!"

John laughed,

"Fine"

"Go on then."

"Sherlock Holmes, you bloody git. I have for a long time, and still do, love you."

Sherlock's face lit up and he smiled. John looked expectantly back at Sherlock,

"Alright, don't be a sore winner, your turn."

"John Watson, my ridiculously romantic blogger. I have _obviously_ loved you for a very long time."

John smiled,

"No need to be rude about it."

The two boys laughed and John got a sneaky idea. Taking one hand he reached out and hit the water, splashing water in Sherlock's face. The detective stopped laughing and paused, his curls now wet and falling in front of his eyes. John panicked, maybe that was a mistake. But seconds later Sherlock reached his hand out and hit the water, splashing John in the face. Both boys burst into laughter and ran, splashing each other and ducking beneath the water to avoid the other's attacks. Finally they stopped, both out of breath from laughing and tire from their water splashing war. Sherlock put up his arms,

"I surrender John. How about you join me in the hot tub for a victory bath?"

John agreed and they both climbed out of the pool and headed towards the hot tub. As they entered and sat down, adjusting to the heat, they both stared at the sky in silence. It was so peaceful, the entire night was surreal. The moon was full, casting a beautiful glow on the ocean below, and the sky was clear, filled with twinkling stars. The two boys sat alone, the whole outdoor pool to themselves. John rested his hands on top of the water, tracing circles with his fingertips. Sherlock watched and finally reached out, grabbing onto John's hand and holding it in his own. Just like their lips, their hands fit together perfectly. Sherlock traced his finger from John's hand, up his arm, over his shoulder, lightly across his neck, and finally ending with his hand caressing John's face. They stared into each other's eyes like they had done earlier. This time though, it was very different. No fear, or nervousness, or anxiety. It was replaced instead with love, lust, and confidence. Their eyes however remained dilated and as Sherlock brushed his fingers across John's neck, he felt that his pulse was still erratic. Once again the two boys leaned in, their lips touching. This kiss however was very different from the last, no longer chaste. This kiss was filled with want and need and much more aggressive. Reluctantly John pulled away,

"How about we go back to the hotel room?"

Sherlock frowned,

"But I thought you didn't want to share a bed."

John knew Sherlock was joking but nevertheless he responded,

"I think maybe, just maybe, I can handle sharing a bed with the great Sherlock Holmes."


	6. Chapter 6

The boys spent no time rushing up to their hotel room. They waited for the elevator both nervous and unable to stay still. They kept their distance but one look said it all. The elevator arrived at their floor and they wasted no time dashing down the hall to their hotel room. They both struggled to get the door unlocked, the room key taking six tries before the light turned green and the lock opened. The lights remained off, only the glow of the moon coming in through the window, lighting up the bedroom. Tangled limbs, whispers of affection, and love continued long into the night.

* * *

John woke up wrapped in the long detective's arms. The warm body behind him reminded him that last night wasn't just a dream, it had really happened. John smiled to himself and snuggled closer to Sherlock. He reached down to where Sherlock's arm wrapped around his torso and wrapped his fingers in Sherlock's. John couldn't think of a more perfect moment in his life. He told the man he loved that he loved him. The man he loved, loved him back. He got to make love to the man that he loved. Oh, and he was still in Hawaii. He looked out the window at the ocean and watched as the sun rose above the ocean and the palm trees gently swayed.

* * *

Sherlock unwillingly opened his eyes but soon realizing his position, he couldn't help but smile. Last night had been perfect and although Sherlock often warned himself against sentiment, this was one exception that he would have to deal with. Anything for John, his John. He pulled John closer and realized that their hands were in twine. He squeezed his hand three times hoping John understood the message, I love you.

* * *

Eventually both the men got out of bed, reluctant of course. They packed up and headed to lobby, attempting to check out again hopefully more successfully this time. The checkout went smoothly and they drove to the airport. The plane ride was long but Sherlock and John where so happy to be together that time seemed to disappear. An announcement came across the loud speaker, they would be landing in London in just fifteen minutes.

Sherlock looked down at John who had fallen asleep, his body slumped against Sherlock, his head resting softly on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock's arm was wrapped around the smaller man and he gently rubbed his hand up and down John's arm.

The plane finally landed and John stumbled into the cab with Sherlock's help. The ride wasn't very long and soon they had arrived at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock paid the cab driver and gently shook John awake.

"We're here."

"Mmmm."

"Come on, get up, you can go to sleep as soon as we get inside."

John reluctantly got out of the cab as Sherlock unlocked the door to 221B. They trudged up the stairs and dropped their bags off in the doorway. The stood in silence for a moment, both staring blankly at the flat they called home. Finally John spoke,

"So…erm…Whose bed is you know, our bed?"

Sherlock smiled,

"I was thinking my bed would be better. That is unless you'd like to sleep in yours. Or for that matter if you're still wanting to share a bed with me at all."

"Don't be dumb Sherlock."

"I'm not being dumb. I'm just making sure that you were absolutely sure you wanted to share a bed with me."

"Of course I do, I love you Sherlock."

Sherlock beamed and John knew that those three words meant the world to his detective. They walked to Sherlock's bedroom and John didn't think twice before stripping off his clothes and climbing in bed. Sherlock wasn't far behind and he crawled in right after John, pulling his blogger close. He gently kissed the back of his head and spoke quietly in John's ear,

"So when should we go on our next vacation?"

John laughed,

"I thought you told me that we weren't on vacation."

Sherlock shrugged,

"It wasn't a vacation at first but I think the last night turned into a vacation. An accidental vacation of sorts."

John laughed again and smiled,

"An accidental vacation? I like that, but next time lets go on an actual vacation."

Sherlock kissed the back of John's head again,

"Okay, a real vacation, no more accidental vacations."


End file.
